


Irritating needs

by Blackberry



Series: Behindhand [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: ...Kind of First Time, Anal Fingering, Asexual Sherlock, Failed Masturbation, First Time, Highly sensitive Sherlock, Intense Sensations, John is a Very Good Doctor, John making Sherlock feel very good, Light BDSM, M/M, Massage, POV Third Person, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock's side of things, Sherlock's thoughts, Touch-issues, Toys, early-morning hard-on, touch issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-16 15:22:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2274792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackberry/pseuds/Blackberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's inexperience when it comes to his body's needs causing him trouble, again. This time he tries to handle it himself, but it does not really work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The problem shows again

**Author's Note:**

> The characters belong to their inventors and BBC, not mine.
> 
> This is a sequel to Discretion issues, you might want to read that, otherwise this won't make much sense, espacially the early chapters of this won't.
> 
> Here is a short summary of Discretion issues:  
> Sherlocks body is in need of release for the first time in his life, when it becomes medically necessarry to masturbate he tries but instead of having a good time he drops into subspace unintentionally because of the pain. Finally John decides he needs to interfere and helps him.

Sherlock knew it was happening again the moment it started.

_A difficult feeling building up inside…_

_…. over several weeks._

 

He tried to deny it.

Then tried to avoid meeting it.

Then tried to make it go away, but it was like something that had it’s own will.

He tried to erase it, he even googled tips how to get rid of the thing building up inside.

He battled it down and it came back and he tried to erase it, again.

It came back again and again and again.

He realized he only managed to floor it for a short period of time, and it came back again….

Until he didn’t manage any longer ….

 

He finally acknowledged it was … need… and something else… his tries to switch it _off_ had all failed, it was way to intense!

So he decided to try what John had suggested the last time it had happened.

He fetched all the recommended stuff right after John went to work.

_Thank god this time his walking wasn’t impaired, yet…._

If his condition went downhill as fast as last time he’d have that problem in about three days, he needed to prevent that. _No need to go through that embarrassment again_.

The bad aftertaste of his helplessness during that episode was still lingering in his memories.

So he tried doing it in the shower. He knew John did relieve himself there sometimes, when he thought Sherlock wasn’t in hearing range, but usually it was the smell of arousal and semen that lingered and revealed his activities.

Sherlock had tried not to listen whenever he feared that John was taking care of himself this way, though he had wondered why John needed it so often when Sherlock himself was only plagued by this once or twice a year…. and usually the problem solved itself within a few nights during sleep, without him even remembering how it happened. John seemed not to want to wait until it just went away.

He stood under the shower now, wet, water flowing, and when he tried to stimulate the glans it felt as if he was washing himself.

No good feelings there. In fact when he started to rub a bit if felt not good, it felt rough.

_He needed lubricant?_

He tried soap but it felt just awful…. he knew this feeling, it was the same one he had when he had tried to masturbate as a teen, _it felt off…. horrible, wrong_. His body did not like it then and it did not like it now. Also the noises the rubbing itself produced in the tiled room where making him feel the opposite of aroused.

 _Well_ , at least now he was so very un-aroused he no longer felt the need to get relief at all, that was at least something. There was no chance that he’d manage to get aroused like this. _Note: never try this in the shower again._

He’d ignore the problem for now.

 


	2. Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tries to get rid of the problem.

Two days later he finished another shower, his penis had decided to be in an slightly erected state when he woke up and he had not managed to overrule it in the past hour. He had tried to concentrate and convince it to behave flaccid, return to it’s natural state. But it was no use.

The slightest touch of fabric in the area of his groin made him clench his jaw, it was not a nice feeling.

He had waited for John to go to work before he headed for the bathroom.

When he finished his shower he had decided to read the manual for the toy John had provided over seven months ago, maybe there could be some benefit of the thing after all. He had not tried to use it last time, not sure what to do with it and how.

He remembered the last time he had been in this situation quite well. He had been… in heat for days and the hoped relieve during sleep failed to happen. Those days had been hard. It had started as something distantly itching in his mind, then it was a constant uneasy feeling in his body and finally also in his mind, until in the end it had turned into physical pain.

He felt like he needed something and was not able to get it because he had no idea what it was.

 _It was not only a need of his body, his mind had felt … hungry, too_ , for something he was not even able to figure out _after_ John had been so kind to give him relief. His memories of John helping him with the thing were a bit diffuse and to be honest he had tried to store them away as hidden as possible.

He sat on his bed with the lube and the toy now.

This made him feel like a dumb teenager again, desperately trying to understand the world and having the notion he was only granted access to a quarter of all the information there was… and the stuff he needed to understand was in the other three quarters.

_This felt awkward….. again._

_Out of his comfort zone._

_His body being spiteful._ One more occasion where he disliked his transport.

John had told him he needed to make himself feel good.

_How often had he wished he could dim sensation?_

_… or he could tune down his hearing.._

_… or his understanding._

He was not able to relax.

_Getting into sleep was torture… this was torture, too._

_How could he make his body relax into a good feeling when everything he did was just… not feeling good at all?_

John could explain. John could do some medical stuff and his body would comply.

_Why had John more power over his stupid transport than he did?_

_Probably because he was a good physician._

_John had told him to be nice to his body to make it comply._

Sherlock had never enjoyed having a body. It was so _normal_ to enjoy bodily things… but sometimes he wanted to have a share of it, too, but most of the time he was just annoyed with it because it felt terrible.

But _when_ he was ready and longing for some relaxation or feeling good his transport betrayed him and he wondered if his aversion was caused because his body was not really able to feel good at all.

When he was younger he had tried to switch sensations off because they were all to intense and ugly. Which already made him loathe it back then.

John had said it was a doom loop he needed to break, but he had no idea what that meant.

He felt callow…

_And clueless._

He knew so much about most of the sexual varieties, had so much theoretical knowledge, why wasn’t he able to put it to use?

John had said porn was for getting aroused, he needed to get in the right mood.

His mind wandered through all the amateur porn he had seen in his life, inspecting the paths of arousal that had been taken there….

He passed many ideas of how to achieve arousal but none of them worked for him, until….

… until he remembered a BDSM scene that had made him feel different when watching. He would not say it had aroused him, _but the position was somehow… interesting_ , he had stared at it for quite some time. A person was sitting in the lap of another one, both of them sitting on a sofa, the person who sat in the back had the arms stretched out on the backrest and held the wrists of the other one there. The legs of them both were … he didn’t remember their genders he realized…. just that they were both the same sex, he had deleted the rest, not important, it wasn’t really. He had been more busy solving the case and therefore watching the background of the set than anything else, but he had stopped and wondered about the position. Both persons had their legs spread slightly, the one on top had them hanging over the other one’s. Which meant that when the bottom one moved the legs, the legs of the other person had to follow. The person on top was absolutely passive and somehow fondly handled into the positions suggested by the mistress. Then the mistress, she was female, he remembered, had pleasured the person on top with a toy.

_.. this was actually a nice position._

John had said he needed to try to imagine it was him who was receiving, that his body needed this kind of fantasy to go into the right mood.

He tried to imagine… legs spread a bit and him sitting in another person’s lap, his legs resting over the ones of the other person…. which meant that when the other person spread the thighs wider his would go with them…. him relaxing and leaning his back against a warm chest….. _Er_!….. he jerked away from the image…. Feeling another person under him while he was naked…. _not good…._

He shivered…. The tiny fantasy had turned to discomfort within two seconds.

He curled into a ball, away from the headboard he had been sitting against.

_Cold, he was cold._

His hands grabbed the duvet and tucked it over his freezing body.

_When had he ever wanted to be touched?_

_Was that the problem? Was his aversion of touch producing this problem?_

Then he was again aware of the deep hunger for something unknown that was located in his mind… _What did it want? Why couldn’t it leave him alone?_

 _Had there ever been a touch that had not made him flinch?_ The touch of his family members…. he didn’t seek it but he did not detest it either, at least that was neutral. Though this felt very much out of place here.

John’s touch was also neutral. Then the memory of John’s heavy hand on his forehead appeared in his mind and suddenly he realized, _that had actually felt good_. _Was that a part of what he needed? A hand pressing down on his head…. or even that particular hand?_ The latter wouldn’t be the best of ideas. John would probably not like it.

_Was that an actual sexual need?_

_Did he want it to be a sexual need?_

_No!_

_Definitely not!_

He needed John’s touch to be neutral and good, not associated with irritating and unwanted desire.

He was unwitting. Only someone with actual sexual expert knowledge would be able to tell him if this was a normal need while coming on heat…. John was the only one he’d dare to ask… _er, no… he would_ not _ask John!…_ This would produce even more awkward situations. He had tried to evade the topic after what had happened last time.

John had been a real help, and Sherlock was still grateful he _had_ helped, but he was also kind of…. ashamed of being clueless and relying on assistance.

 _He felt alone_ , he realized… _lost_.

_This was awful._

With an angry movement he shoved the toy and the lube into his nightstand and heaved his legs over the edge of the bed.

He stood up and went into the living room.

The violin was there…

_… some comfort at least._

 


	3. John finds out

The next afternoon they were heading home from a crime scene.

“Sherlock, you’ve been kind of distracted at the crime scene, what is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Stop that. What is irritating you?”

“I’m not irritated.”

“See, your tone screams irritation.”

“Shut up, John.”

“Oh, there we are. Must be nasty.” John said in a slightly mocking tone, then reached for his chin. Sherlock was too perplexed to evade his hand, which hocked under his jaw and made him turn his head towards John. John looked into his eyes, deeply and for three long seconds.

“OK. I see.”

“What do you see?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, hell, then just shut up, would you?” He was probably not nice but he didn’t care. There was nothing to see and why was John making such a fuss?

“Angelo’s for dinner.” John stated.

“Hell, no!”

“Sherlock?…. You don’t curse.”

“Oh, really. Thank you, doctor. Nice to see how you know every aspect of me. I do in fact curse… especially when someone bugs me like this.”

“I didn’t say anything, I just asked for dinner.”

“Fine, go and eat. I’ll be at the flat.”

“That was not the point, Sherlock. I don’t want to eat alone. I wanted you to eat properly and with me.”

“Why, has your date dumped you?”

John sighed ”I didn’t have a date. You know very well I am currently not dating.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t change topics.”

“You tend to make poor choices when ….”

“Sherlock…” John rested his hand on Sherlock’s lower arm, pressing a bit on the sleeve. ”… I know you are not well, but please, stop being an asshole, because it is not my fault…. neither is it Lestrade’s. If you let me in I can try to help, but not like this.” He removed his hand and directed his gaze ahead.

Sherlock bit his lip. So he had been not nice. He didn’t want to talk. Insulting people usually made them shut up or go away or leave him alone or…. he better shut up himself for now.

When they reached Baker Street he went to his room and shut the door with a bang in frustration. He heard John sigh loudly in the kitchen.

 

Two hours later John knocked at his door.

“What do you want?”

“There’s tea on the kitchen table if you want some.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh, come on, Sherlock. Stop sulking and drink some tea. It will help you relax.”

_Did John know?_

_No, couldn’t be._ He felt a slight twitch of panic in the back of his consciousness. He battled it down…. and - _quite grateful for that_ \- it worked. _At least one thing where his mind cooperated._

_John was usually so clueless, how would he know?_

Sherlock had carefully made sure none of his distress was showing on the outside, _hadn’t he?_

John had eaten, Sherlock hadn’t.

John had watched TV and Sherlock had stayed in his room, working on his laptop. Feeling unable to see anyone or talk to anyone. He knew if he would, he would be ’not-good’ and insulting within three minutes. John was right, this was not his fault. _But since when did he care who’s fault it was? No, he actually didn’t..._ he just cared that it wasn’t John’s.

He thought about kind and nice John who had helped him and made his body ejaculate the last time need had made him almost go mad.

John had been careful, caring, nice, patient, assisting… and he himself had felt horrible, disgusting, prone to his body’s needs, panicking.

The last thing he had expected that could happen when having sex was getting high somehow. John figured out his own body had produced the high and told him this was not what usually happened during sex.

A few days after the incident John had left a book about BDSM on the table, with a marker at the ‘subspace’ section, he was always so very tactful.

Sherlock knew about subspace and how it worked but he would have never ever been able to diagnose this on himself. He had hated how vulnerable he had felt… _sensation had compromised his brain_. He’d not have managed to actually ask for help, John had just appeared and taken care of him.

The doctor had known what to do. He had guided him through the whole thing, explained and finally had convinced his transport to expel the semen.

His recollection of the whole thing was dimmed and not really detailed. He had been so washed away by the endorphins it felt all kind of misty.

The moment John had taken over control of his body had been odd.

When he was touched he had a hard time to hold down his flight response.

Orgasm had hit him unexpectedly, it felt different than he had expected. It had felt as if something had taken over and flooded his body …. _Well, now in hindsight_ …. he was almost sure it was pleasure, back then he had just been overwhelmed with the new sensation, drowning in it and maybe even been a bit shocked about it.

It had been intense but he’d not really have described it as _nice_. The good thing was that the next day he was a bit sore (from his own tries to resolve the need) but the pain was gone and he felt exhausted and relaxed and … soothed.

Suddenly he realized his groin area felt firm and wondered if he wanted to look at it. He lifted the laptop off his lap and lifted the duvet. _The pants were indeed a bit tight_ and he ….. he was getting slightly aroused _… now what had he done that this was happening now_? Unprepared, busy analyzing, and while he was _not_ trying to make it come to life. Once more he realized his genitalia had it’s own will.

_Was it simply because he was thinking about it? Nope, couldn’t be. … but that needed to be tested…._

He tried to remember how it had felt exactly when his body had relieved itself. It took him almost a minute to make his mind actually go back there and explore the sensation. He realized he was a bit anxious about it and kept his distance at first. But he needed to solve this, so there was no use in prolonging the awkwardness.

It had felt a bit like being separated from his body. He had observed the sensations like from a distance, the perceptions muddled and odd.

When his body had started to tremble violently he had experienced a short moment of nausea and then panic, not knowing what was happening.

Then something had exploded and blinded him, the blast had overwhelmed him with ….. _he did not know how to describe it_ …. when the feeling abated he had in fact been glad it was over.

He knew he had needed some time to find his way back to reality.

John was there, he was grateful for his presence.

John had stayed with him, which had on one hand produced shame on his side…. maybe even on John’s, too …. and a feeling of safety on the other….

John had done this to help him, he probably hadn’t wanted to assist with it, but he had wanted to help him and had done the necessary…. He would not bring John in a situation where he’d have to do that again.

He was pretty sure this was not what real intercourse was like, at least it had looked totally different in the porn he had watched…. it was more medical intervention. John hadn’t been angry or unnerved about it, therefore he probably had not stepped over too many boundaries. But he was kind of swimming in the dark and seeking a distant shore with this. He didn’t know if it was un-polite and how to ask.

John was so afraid that people might think he was gay…. but what they did could probably be classified as gay, at least for an uninvolved spectator.

He needed to keep his cool with the thing, not let anyone see his uneasiness, it was embarrassing - even with John - to be so inexpert. Therefore he should probably try to behave ’normal’ in order to not draw any more attention to his condition.

 

They went to Scotland Yard the next day and Sherlock tried to be very kind, tough he mixed in a few carefully placed honest information that were hopefully a bit too honest to be nice.

John watched him with growing suspicion and he realized he was not doing the ’normal’ thing very well.

The moment they arrived back in their living room John stepped in his way.

“Come on, Sherlock, you are beating around the bush. Stop it.”

“I…..”

“You don’t want to say it, but I’m a doctor, I can see you aren’t good and I assume you’re having some problems with your lack of wanking again. Why didn’t you say so?”

“Isn’t that obvious, John?”

“No…. Sorry, actually _yes_ …. not for strangers, though”

“You were kind enough to interfere last time but I don’t have the need to bring you into that situation again and this is my problem.”

“I’m your friend and I want to help, at least if it is really necessary.”

“It’s not!”

“Why won’t you let me help? Worked last time.”

“For god’s sake! You’re throwing a fit every time someone merely hints we might have a sexual relationship! Your most frequent phrase besides ’I don’t understand’ is ’I’m not gay’. So why do you think I didn’t tell you?…. Probably you don’t understand this, too.” Sherlock barked.

“Now, you’re mean. Don’t think this’ll make me retreat and leave the topic therefore…. Wait, are you telling me you did this to _protect_ me from my …. whatever _it_ is?”

Sherlock kept his mouth shut. Maybe that and himself being uneasy with the whole thing.

John stepped closer and rested his hand on one of Sherlock’s folded arms.

When he spoke his tone had changed. ”You’re afraid of ….. this. Sherlock, how bad was that experience for you, honestly?” John sounded patient and alert now.  
“Have been through worse…. Not really bad….” Sherlock looked to the ground.

“Tell me…. ”

“You were there.”

“Oh, really. Thanks for telling me, I wouldn’t have noticed…. Wait…. Are you telling me it was not _that_ bad because…… Oh, OK.” John looked a bit lost for words now. ”…. and what kind of presence was I? A friend? A lover? A doctor? A person serving your needs?”

“Doctor, friend, teacher. In that order.”

John raised his eyebrows. Teacher. ’He had not seen that coming, but it was logical’ were the strain of thoughts Sherlock read on the other man’s face.

“Thank you.” John said out loud.

“What for?”

“The aspect of your inexperience…..”

“Could you please not dwell too much on that!” Sherlock realized his tone was grumpy from discomfiture.

“That’s it… you’re embarrassed about your cluelessness… it’s far worse than…. the thing itself…… Sherlock, you need to get rid of that! Being clueless is not the end of the world, it’s the beginning of learning.”

“I ….” Sherlock made a step back, feeling like a teenager once more.

“No, don’t you dare run away.” John followed him and held his shoulders. ”Don’t waste the chance to experience to have good sex by being embarrassed about being callow….. I learned something important that night, too.”

Sherlock made another step back und John followed once more, _a bit afraid of rejection_ , he realized.

“I found…. stand still…. Why?… Are you afraid of being rejected by me? Is that why you don’t talk about it?… Or are you afraid to rely on me?”

“I rely on you all day.”

John’s mouth fell open and he stared at Sherlock. _Had he said something wrong again?_ He hated to blunder…. _Related theme to being ashamed of being callow, wasn’t it?_ John was right…. with John’s knowledge of human nature he was right, as usual. _Sentiment was a sandpit_ wherever he went.

_Now John was the one looking ….? Worried?_

“I … thank you.”

 _That was what he had least expected_. He suddenly felt like his world was full of emotional contact mines. ”What for?”

“That was by far the nicest thing you said to me in a long time.”

 _Really?_ The few times when John had told him he had said something nice he hadn’t realized it, he had just said the truth. So often he was being told he was rude when he said the truth, _this was so very confusing._

“Not my intention. Truth.”

“Already got that, the truth is nice then. Thank you.”

“Hm.”

“Sherlock, the fact that this problem shows again poses the question if it’ll happen more often from now, which means you need a way to deal with it…. and it might mean you should see a doctor about it…..”

“You are aware no doctor will believe me when I tell him how suppressing this had worked for so long and if he does he’ll tell me in the end that now my body is behaving normal and besides that I am embarrassed, there will come nothing good out of that.”

“OK, you are probably right…. Wait, I … there was something I wanted to say…. I learned something about me, too, that evening.”

Sherlock felt his muscles stiffen up a bit, he tried to consciously relax.

“I… I tried to see this as a completely medical situation… and maybe a bit of helping a friend… I tried to … experience it as a medical intervention ….”

“I am grateful for that.”

“Yeah, thanks…. It was not meant to be a sexual situation and it wasn’t.”

“So we were not having sex?” Sherlock asked a bit curious.

“Not really.”

Sherlock felt relieved. _John had hinted at this before, but it was good to hear it again like that._

“I…”

“Sherlock, if there are things you don’t know, ask. Do not draw false conclusions with stuff like this, it’s to dangerous.”

“Right…… Where is the difference?”

“You mean why this wasn’t really sex?”

Sherlock nodded.

“It would have been sex if we had exchanged affection, had kissed, had both been ready to have sex, had planned to have intercourse and had both enjoyed it.”

“So you didn’t enjoy it.”

“OK, I realize this is where the conversation might head. No, I didn’t enjoyed it, but neither was I repelled. I was really worried, you were _a bit_ out of it. Satisfying you… it was difficult and I found that I needed to make a careful step out of that doctor-mindset to make it work in the end. That was when I tried to explain you need some imagination with it, to be honest, I was uneasy with it at first. Then I tried to provide some images, that was a step further. ….. Later I realized that if I had wanted that to go further I … maybe could have managed to ….. Blimey… this is more difficult than I thought….”

“So if something _is_ sex depends on if the persons involved _want_ it to be sex?”

“That’s a bit blunt but… overall correct.”

“You are telling me you’re thinking about being gay?” Sherlock blinked in surprise.

“No…. NO!…. Don’t get this wrong, I was _not_ in a real sexual mindset back then. I’m just telling you I found that sexuality is not necessarily linked with the fact if another person has breasts and …. That it wasn’t a bad experience for me. If you need help with this again I’ll assist you… in a neutral way.”

Sherlock frowned.

“This is not an offer for … sex?”

“Er, not really, I just wanted to say I’d prefer to show you how it works instead of you go ‘out’ and find out the …. _wrong_ way.”

“And which mindset would you want to enter then?”

“That’s not my decision, but there are limits.”

“You’re leaving the decision to me? Me, who has no clue at all?”

“You need to know what you are comfortable with. I will assist you…. If that means I leave a medical mindset and… no, I just wanted to say I’d be able to do that.”

“Ehm, thanks.” Sherlock was not sure what to say now.

John giggled.

“What?” Sherlock asked.

“Oh, this is gross, let’s get some dinner before this gets any weirder.”

“OK.”

They both seemed eager to leave the topic for now but Sherlock wondered what had changed John’s mind. _Was he really afraid he could seek sexual adventure outside of the flat… ?_ He realized he had - only distantly - thought about getting ‘professional’ help with this, but more the theoretical kind than the physical. But John was the better option. This might need trust and John was the only one he trusted enough.

 


	4. Getting used to touch

Though John had made it clear he’d help and Sherlock was sure he was the only one he would in fact _let_ help the topic was kept dead quiet for the following thirty hours.

Sherlock didn’t know what to do and how, and hoped it’d just go away.

John just needed the time to actually wrap his mind around the fact that he had agreed to ‘help’ Sherlock with this. He wanted to, no doubt, but he had to accustom himself with what that might mean. He tried to stop the building up of anxiety about the whole process and oddly, it, at least partially, worked. He found himself thinking about how to do this whole thing and how to make Sherlock actually enjoy his sensations.

John knew Sherlock had problems because his senses were very accurate and was often unnerved because sensations caused pain or were way too intense.

He also tried to figure out where exactly his own boundaries were. _How far could he go with his help?_

He wouldn’t teach Sherlock how to kiss and wouldn’t undress himself or get his own prick involved with the proceedings, so much he was sure.

Finally, almost two days after their conversation, John noticed Sherlock’s posture was even more tense than usual. His mood had been in the cellar all day and John was reaching the point Molly had already about noon, when she had thrown them out of the morgue and told Sherlock actually to piss off somebody else. John had raised his eyebrows with new respect for Molly, but now, it was almost nine o’clock and John just wanted to eat and go to bed, Sherlock’s remarks on John’s stupidity were twice as much as usual.

When Sherlock made another biting remark John finally lost his patience.

“It’s enough, Sherlock! Go and have a shower.”

“I showered this morning.”

“Being dirty was not the point. Go loose that attitude somehow!”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Sherlock grumbled with restrained anger.

“Nice warm shower should relax you, that’s why I suggested it.” John realized nagging in return was not the right way and he tried to soothe and help. ”Come on.”

“I don’t want a shower!” Sherlock groused when John led him towards the bathroom. And instead of getting in there he headed straight ahead towards his bedroom.

“Fine. What about I give you a back rub?”

Sherlock said nothing, just looked a bit baffled.

“Sherlock, nice you finally decided to shut up. Now get that shirt off.”

Sherlock didn’t move and John went to the bathroom to get some something, which he put it in the microwave for ten seconds, to warm it up? _What was in the bathroom that could be put into a microwave?_

When he returned Sherlock had crossed the room and stared out of the window.

“Come on, loose that shirt.” John suggested again and tucked the fabric upwards.

Sherlock followed the movement and pulled it over his head, then threw it to a corner in one swift angry movement.

When he didn’t move John gently dragged him towards the bed. “Lie on your belly.”

Sherlock let himself fall onto the bed heavily.

When he had wiggled into a prone position John sat down on the edge and tried the temperature of the oil by pouring it onto his hands.

When he touched the back of Sherlock’s neck with his thumb and his middle finger to start loosening the muscles there Sherlock flinched.

“Could you please not touch me?”

“How am I supposed to massage you without touching you?”

“Hmp.” Sherlock gave a soft noise of protest.

“This is supposed to make you a bit more relaxed and also to feel good in a neutral way so just go with it.”

John started carefully kneading the trapezius muscle with the two fingers. He continued for two minutes, carefully adding more of his fingers into the movements and another minute later including the splenius muscles, too.

Sherlock kept still and John knew the other man was still fighting his impulse to flee, not at all ready to relax. This would take some time and John needed to go careful and slow.

He took his time when he moved over to the shoulder muscles, not daring to use his whole hands yet.

After spending almost five minutes on the shoulders he returned to the area around the cervical vertebrae, he continued to the highest thoracic vertebrae and grimaced when he felt the tension there.

_Maybe this was the right way to make Sherlock relax so they could actually later take care of the other problem Sherlock seemed still trying to ignore._

He gently loosened the muscles there and Sherlock finally started to relax under his hands.

 

 

It felt awful in the beginning. He had never had a massage before and was honestly skeptical if he wanted to have one even before John touched him.

John’s hands were warm and the slippery oil felt disgusting. He wished it was at least cold.

John did circles at the sides of his neck and he felt the most intense goose bumps shrink his skin he had ever had to endure. They were even borderline painful, this was no fun.

_Why would people like this?_

John’s touch was firm and the tickling he had feared did not happen.

This was obviously a medical touch, meant to help healing, not for sexual entertainment. _That was good._

When John worked over his shoulders he realized John was right, his muscles felt tense… _but if John wouldn’t try to poke his fingers into them none would notice_ , not even him. _They were in use, wasn’t it normal they were not slack?_ He was not dead and not asleep, he didn’t understand the need to relax he realized once more.

Then John went down his spine and started to maltreat the muscles on it’s sides. When he reached the area of the middle of the shoulder blades something happened…. transformed.

Sherlock felt his body sink into the mattress a good lot more than it had done before… he felt air leave his lungs more thoroughly than before. His body was reacting to John’s ministrations.

“That’s it. Relax.” John cooed.

 _Oh, this must mean it was supposed to happen._ John was doing one of those things that made his body comply. It felt not bad, not good either, but that was better than ten minutes before.

“Breathe deeply and try to imagine your body is really heavy.”

Sherlock tried, something changed and the deeper breathing even changed some other things even more. The detective tried to deduce what his body was doing but was a bit out of comparison criteria.

He felt wobbly and limb, the tension was ebbing and it was a bit unnerving. His body perception kind of dimmed down and it was a bit alarming the more it proceeded.

“No no no, don’t tense up again.” John had leaned down to his ear and was speaking softly into it. Then he continued to massage the thoracic area, going down constantly, taking care of every single muscle in Sherlock’s back thoroughly.

When he reached the lumbar region the touch became softer and John definitely used less pressure.

Sherlock felt the circles John’s hands made were warm and lulling.

He fought the dragging leaden feeling that approached but a few moments later it just gently swallowed him without warning.

 

John felt Sherlock fight the approaching sleep. Sherlock had worked hard on the last case, which was not solved yet, and had prevented Sherlock to have any sleep for three nights. That was one reason Sherlock was so grumpy, he was almost dizzy with the lack of sleep since the early afternoon.

John softened his touch when he realized this might actually work to switch Sherlock off. He changed his movements from massage to something that was supposed to allay his alertness. It worked, he felt Sherlock try to fight the sleep, but finally he surrendered.

Maybe this relaxed the genius enough to actually have a wet dream and then the other problem would be gone, too.

John sat there for long moments, watching Sherlock breathe and sink deeper into sleep. He did not dare to stand up, afraid it would wake the sensible man.

But if it worked or not tonight, to rely on Sherlock’s self-healing - _if one could call nocturnal emissions that_ \- Sherlock needed some more information about his body and learn a bit about his sexuality. It would only be a question of time when the thing would literally come up to get on his nerves again.

So the first part of carefully doing this had just happened successfully: to make Sherlock get used to John’s touch, for the beginning a touch that was not really supposed to be medical but also a bit relaxing and making him feel good in a totally neutral way. Sherlock had not seemed to like it but also not too horrified by it. He might have a slight muscle hangover tomorrow, he had been really tense.

John had learned how to massage during his studies and it had been a good idea, especially with all the medical problems he had encountered in Afghanistan. It had helped many soldiers, not only to heal better and faster or just ease the pain from minor injuries but also when they couldn’t relax after an ambush or a fire fight. But Sherlock was certainly one of the worse cases of tension he had ever seen.

John decided he’d repeat this little exercise tomorrow, if Sherlock wasn’t to sore… or maybe to ease the sore muscles a bit, whatever.

Sherlock relaxed further and John felt him slip deeper into sleep.

He carefully stood up and brought the oil back to the bathroom.

The doctor went to bed a few minutes later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, please leave a some feedback if you enjoyed this.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock was more relaxed the next morning, but a bit not sure about what had exactly happened… The question how he had fallen into sleep so easy bothered him, to be precise. He had never slept with another person present… and never ever with someone touching him. _It was just too odd to be true, maybe he had dreamt it?_ The oil was in the bathroom and there was no proof John had indeed touched him.

He ignored the topic uneasily, but during the day the memory of the touch came back to him repeatedly.

Around noon he felt his back was a tiny bit sore from the unused attention, from then he was quite sure he had not dreamt at all. He had in fact relaxed under John’s hand quite thoroughly…. his every muscle in his upper back to be precise, it seemed they hadn’t done that in quite some time according to the rough feeling it had given him then and was still giving him now.

He had _not_ imagined a massage would feel like _that_.

He had thought it was more like being stroked, but instead it was being kneaded until his whole body had felt wobbly.

Also, massages seemed to be aiding sleep and Sherlock wondered if that had been the aim of the exercise. He’d google that later.

_Whatever, it had done nothing to ease his other ’tension’._

Which became quite clear to almost half Scotland Yard when Sherlock failed to solve the case they were called to by Lestrade in the afternoon. Sherlock inspected the victim and the scene but found nothing but meager hints that made him not even able to come up with some theories. Instead Sally found something and sneered at him.

To John’s horror Sherlock threw his mug of tea through the conference room at SY after the briefing. John puckered his lips and saw the frustrated look Lestrade threw the genius detective.

Sherlock stormed out to head home and when John hurried after him Lestrade asked.

“Is he sick or something? I’ve never seen his tolerance for frustration _this_ low.”

“Yeah… something.” John muttered absentmindedly, trying to figure out how to solve Sherlock’s tension while running after him.

They went home via cab a few minutes later.

 

At home Sherlock continued to threw insults at John and petri dishes at the walls.

John endured it another two hours, exactly until Mrs. Hudson had left for a nice evening out, until he stepped nearer to the ranting tall man and grabbed his upper arms.

”Sherlock! Cool down! This is not making any aspect of this easier… and venting like this will probably not help anyone.”

“For god’s sake, there will be another victim, soon… and I can’t think! And if I can’t think she will die like the last two ones did!” Sherlock yelled back, his voice really spiteful. A cup joined the heaps of shards on the base of the wall.

“That’s it!” John turned Sherlock around not too gently and shoved him towards his bedroom.

“What?” Sherlock resisted.

“Shut up! I will take care of this!” John grunted while continuing to shuffle him forwards.

“What?!” Sherlock’s tone changed from angry to insecure within two seconds. ”John?”

“Oh, come on, this is unbearable… your are unbearable.” John mumbled.

“No!” Sherlock stood rooted to the spot and John bumped into him in the door to his room. When Sherlock didn’t move John rounded him to see his face. Sherlock’s brows were drawn together and he looked almost panicked.

“What’s wrong?” John asked.

Sherlock rubbed his lips hit his flat hand and shook his head.

“Sorry.” John started to understand this had made Sherlock very uneasy, even to the point that he was not even able to utter his concerns. ”I didn’t mean this to sound like that, sorry, Sherlock.”

“Why..? Why did you say that?” Sherlock sounded confused.

“Er, … well, some people might like it that I take initiative and tell them to shut up. I am sorry, it shouldn’t have told you that.” John’s tone was soft now. ”Your tone swapped over and I responded with the same intensity you yelled at me. In fact I need your feedback here…. I just wanted to say you need some relief, you are unbearable like this. It would do you good to just go with it and let me do the work.” John pattered Sherlock’s shoulder and stepped into his room.

Sherlock stayed in the doorway, looking still as if he might take off any moment.

“Sherlock, I am sorry.”

“Don’t!” Sherlock’s answer was sharp.

“Don’t what?”

“Treat me like a dumb teenager.”

“I am not. I’m just not sure I did this right and I want to do it right, so you need to tell me what you need.”

Sherlock’s brows furrowed once more. “I…”

“You don’t know, I know. Sit down.”

Sherlock hesitantly did a step closer but didn’t join John who was sitting sideways on the bed.

“You need to get this over with. Let’s get rid of the problem, come on.”

“I…”

“Be assured, I am as nervous as you are. Come on… Sit down. I will give you another massage.”

Sherlock did a hesitating step to his own bed and John started rolling his duvet into a tight roll.

“What are you doing?”

John put the rolled duvet back onto the middle of the bed.

“This will help you lying down more comfortably later. Get that shirt off…. And the dress pants… better get off everything and put this on.” John held out his blue dressing gown to him.

“Everything?”

“Yes, let me get the oil and stuff. I’ll be back in a minute.”

John left the room and Sherlock hesitatingly unbuttoned his shirt and slipped out of his trousers. After he slipped into the dressing gown he let his boxers fall to the ground and wrapped the belt around himself, then lay down on the bed, in front of the rolled duvet, and dragged another blanket over himself. _Why was he doing this?… Tired._

He tried to concentrate on the trust he had for John. _John would not hurt him_. John was a doctor, John would be kind and caring and careful. He would do him no harm, never had, never would. What was he planning?

John re-entered the room.

“You want another back rub?” John asked carefully, putting stuff down on Sherlock’s bedside table and switching the lamp on Sherlock ignored because he of course knew every detail of his bedroom.

“Hm…. Maybe.” _Since when did he sound so hesitant? He did not like it._

“Alright, open that gown’s belt and bare you shoulders for me.” John encouraged and Sherlock followed the suggestion. He shoved the gown down so that his buttocks and lower back were still covered by the blue fabric, and then rested in a prone position.

“That’s good.” John sounded as if he was oiling his hands and sat on the bed beside him. Sherlock opened his eyes, just to see a pillow in front of his face, _John must have pushed it up towards the headboard._

“Relax.” John ordered in a soothing tone and once more his hands started working on his back, but this time John spend only a few minutes on his shoulders before he went to the thoracic region.

“You are the most tensed up… patient I ever had.” John mumbled.

 _Was he a patient right now?_ Sherlock had not been sure what to think of the whole thing, but this was in fact soothing. His agitation vanished, he had feared once more this might be a sexual thing and that he was totally clueless. John being a doctor was familiar, _that_ he could do. _It was not comfortable but it was familiar and safe._

John’s hands went further south and kneaded his lumbar region now.

“Emm…” Sherlock grunted when John found a bundle of muscles that were far more tensed up than he expected any muscles of his back to be.

“Sorry. This needs to come undone.” John stated, pressing single fingers in between the vertebrae and trying to loosen them up gently.

It took some time until John managed to make them able to move more freely. Sherlock started to feel like jelly once more.

“Good, roll onto your back.”

Sherlock had just started to get used to the touch again and wanted this to actually feel relaxing. Usually he tried to avoid sensing his transport as much as possible. Listening to it just made him weak and normal and less efficient. He needed to ignore it’s needs.

John tipped his hip bone. ”Come on, lay on your back.”

John gently manhandled him into a supine position when Sherlock failed to react. _It was an odd feeling to be moved by John. The passiveness was… relaxing. Taking decision making away from him… out of his control. Not good. On the other hand the trust it needed felt warm somehow… and the care with which John did it felt reassuring, too._

John was kneeling on the bed next to him when he opened his eyes for a brief moment to check the situation.

“OK, relax your legs.” John instructed while giving the sides of this pelvic bones some more attention. Sherlock tied but this was starting to feel unsettling. John’s hand on him making him uneasy, now that his groin was exposed and only covered with one layer of blue fabric.

“Sherlock… your breathing sped up, what is it?” John had stopped his massage but his hands rested at his side at the height of the waistline.

“Hnnn… ” Sherlock managed to utter.

“If you’d care to share a few more details we could actually solve the problem here. So what is it?… Does this hurt?”

Sherlock managed to shake his head, feeling ridiculous for disrupting this, he didn’t really knew what felt odd, it was just…. He tried to exhale and relax.

“No.” Sherlock grunted.

“Good… Just go with it. You are awfully tense… and relax your legs, too.” John suggested.

His legs, though were still kind of stiff, his toes bent up in tension, he tried to wiggle them, but although he managed he failed to make them go limp, they remained kind of stiff and made his feet stand up on the mattress.

“Let me take care of those, then.” John moved down to the foot of the bed and the next thing he knew there were hands on his feet. _Oh… this was… unexpected!_ None had ever touched his feet. John massaged them with a speed and intensity that was almost too much for his mind to follow his body, which seemed to reluctantly grant John the relaxation he seemed to be heading for.

“That’s it, go with it.” John encouraged him and he felt like left behind. ”Let me do all the work.”

“I….” Sherlock started to stammer. “This…” It actually hurt at quite a few points John pressed.

“Sorry… This is really sensible, I know. Might even hurt in the beginning, maybe,...” John pressed a spot near the side of his soles and Sherlock hissed in discomfort. _What was it?_ He was usually not that squeamish and sensitive to pain.

John shifted the finger that pressed into his sole now and massaged several other points thoroughly. The sides of his toes were really painful and he fought the urge to drag his feet out of John’s hands. _This was no fun at all_ , especially when John started to get up the sides of his ankles and Achilles tendons.

“Sherlock, how much does this really hurt? Or are you ticklish?”

“I am not, but it’s really uncomfortable.”

“That’s odd, I mean it feels not nice, but it surely shouldn’t be really painful.”

Sherlock broadcasted his displeasure with another grunt.

“Right, I get this is not exactly fun, but let me finish.” John soothed. It took another ten strenuous minutes and then John started to finally get up his lower legs, this actually felt very relaxing in contrast.

“Relax, Sherlock.” John kneaded his calf muscles.

Sherlock tried and finally realized he had managed, they felt heavy, his whole body did now, John’s fingers were so effective and knowing what they were doing.

They continued up his thighs, which was not as easy, because his muscles there were really hard and rigid, too.

John took more oil onto his hands an Sherlock couldn’t stop himself from wondering if his bed was gonna be a total mess with oil in the aftermath.

“Stop thinking, Sherlock.”

“Trying.”

“No… just don’t do it, just concentrate on my hands… go with them, feel them, try to memorize my movements…. Catalogue the responses of your body….” John advised.

_Why would he do that?_

“Come on, get your mind out of analyzing things… it’s necessary to do this right…. Concentrate on how good it feels.”

Was that what Sherlock had been afraid of? _To feel?_

Hesitating he tried to focus on how John’s fingers felt on his skin. But the slippery movements were not what he wanted to concentrate on.

“Can’t we get this over with a bit faster?” Sherlock asked. “Without me focusing on how it feels?”

John laughed softly, it was not that he was making fun of Sherlock, more about the absurdity of the situation.

“Sorry, mate, that won’t work. You don’t even have an erection yet, and that’s kind of a precondition. Is there a way you might help to get one?… You know think about things. It was there for days where is it now?”

“Relaxed away.” Sherlock mumbled.

“Oh, right. Then let me try speed things up to call it back, OK? Close your eyes.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Oh, alright. Then let me try speed things up to call it back, OK? Close your eyes.”

John uncovered his lower torso and Sherlock felt the cold air on his abdomen and his reproductive organs. _This felt very exposed, was sex always like that? People seemed to do it naked and exposed all the time. Definitely a thing that he could not understand or categorise as ’good feeling’. For god’s sake why was this so difficult!_

His transport needed help and he was usually not squeamish, so where did this come from, he was not prude. Had he ever been nervous when John had stitched him up? No, not even when he decided he’d skip the local, but this, this was far worse, and it was not even supposed to be painful… he wished he was as out of it as he had been last time, maybe he should have asked John for meds before they started this. _Ridiculous._

John moved his legs further apart so that his feet had a space of at least fifty centimeters between them and placed pillows under his knees. He frowned, but then John covered his legs with a blanket again and the awkwardness of the position vanished a bit.

John took some more oil onto his fingers and started to work on his abdomen again. After some careful minutes he moved further down bit by bit, and finally reached the line between his pelvis and his legs on both sides simultaneously, gently kneading it with both thumbs. His hands were a lot warmer than Sherlock had expected with this new touch.

Sherlock tried to close his eyes and then felt John’s index fingers going further down the cleft between his hip and his leg, over the point where his femoral artery passed down into his legs.

“Open your legs a bit wider.” John suggested and Sherlock did.

The doctor went further down the clefts slowly. The sensation was a mixture of a tickle and…? _Uh, this was odd… it wasn’t really a tickle, more of an tingling turmoil in the general area…. What was happening?_

“Ehh…?” He started.

Was this arousal that was starting here? But it didn’t feel like this when his penis had decided to stand up during the past days, that had been just like _tension_ and a slightly pulling pain. When John reached the area where his scrotum rested the tingling intensified.

“This feels new?”

He nodded.

“What does it feel like? Good?”

Sherlock needed to clear his throat. “Tingling and sensitive.”

“Oh, good, this is where we want to go, just go with it. Embrace the sensation. It will get a lot more intense.”

_Could he stand that? It becoming more intense?_

He had no time to dwell on that question because John cupped his scrotum and started massaging it in an upward movement. It was unexpected and very intense. His testicles moved in the direction of the strokes, the sensation of them shifting was odd.

He sucked in air in surprise. A feeling that felt like humming electricity started inside him and seemed to infect his whole body with the tingling.

“Sherlock, tell me what’s happening.” John did not stop the movements.

“Er… feels odd…. ’ntense.”

“I bet… it’s supposed to. Is that feeling new, too?”

Sherlock nodded.

“This is arousal, Sherlock… this is a good feeling. Enjoy it.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, I can see it.”

Sherlock opened his eyes and looked down. His penis had stopped being limp and then his gaze wandered from it to John’s hands that were expertly avoiding to touch it and that were moving his balls around, now and then he felt a finger glide over his perineum. The sight send another wave of… arousal through his body, almost to intense to endure.

“Here we go, Sherlock, this is good.”

He actually felt his penis getting harder.

“Is my scrotum supposed to… cause that feeling?”

John laughed softly once more, but again in a caring and nice way.

“Sherlock, you might want to distance yourself a bit from that medical terminology… I mean if you need that, fine, but this is not any longer really medical, you might also relax your choice of words….”

“Why…”

“Forget it, do what makes you feel safe or good or whatever… If you need me to stop or pause, just tell me. And yes, it’s supposed to make you aroused what I do… Go with it.”

Sherlock tried and it felt odd and the tingling intensified with every firm stroke John made. But then John didn’t stop at the base of his… penis… prick… as he had before, he continued upwards it’s whole length… slowly. Sherlock gasped and out of reflex or whatever tried to move up the bed. It was intense to a level he was not able to bear… and wrong….

“What is it?” John asked surprised and jerked back his hands.

Sherlock stared at him. _Yeah, what was it?_ He did not know. _It was just not good_.

“I don’t know.”

“So it’s OK with you that I juggle your balls but not when I touch your prick?” John asked in a confused tone. ”Is it just an uneasy feeling or did it hurt?”

“Uneasy…”

“How about you touch it, then?”

This even felt bad thinking about it. He shook his head and felt his… prick going limper again.

“Oh, so the idea of you touching it is even an arousal-killer.” John commented. ”No wonder you don’t manage to wank. Why don’t you like it?”

“I…. When you touch me the information is just on one side. When I touch me there are two information, the one from my hand and the one from my… prick… and the one from my hand overwrites the other one and if there is something feeling… aroused it is overwritten or not felt because of the other input and… this is confusing.”

“I get it. Usually that’s what you need a bit of fantasy for, to imagine you are in another situation to make it work, cover up the information from your hand.”

“I can’t.”

“I got that. Does it feel uneasy because you tried so hard to masturbate before, when it didn’t work, so the feeling is associated with frustration and fail?”

“Maybe…? I don’t know. Can we please get over with this?”

“No, this is important, and since your body just decided to go flag anyway this is a good moment for a brief pause. What do you think of when I touch you there?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure? No associations of touch there?”

“No, just associations to _myself_ touching there.”

“OK.” John pressed him back into the pillows so he slowly let himself sink back into a flat position. He slipped on gloves. “Relax… I will touch there again later, just try to get over the initial bad feeling. I will try to do it in a way you probably never tried, so go with it, I will stop if you can’t endure it, but try for a moment. Just ignore the unsettling aspect of it and concentrate on my other touch.” One of John’s hands returned to massage his balls. It felt more clinical now. _…So the… perception of the touch depended on the level of arousal, interesting._ John’s hands felt much more smooth with the gloves, it felt different, but not in a bad way.

“Relax, try to get that tingling feeling back, bathe in it when you feel it coming.”

How was he supposed to do that?

One of John’s knuckles started to massage his perineum while the other one continued to massage his balls, and without much introduction the feeling was there again. He tried to welcome it, pull it into his mind. But when he did it flooded him much to fast and he sucked in air in surprise when it rushed over him.

“Hmmm…” He hummed with the tension it caused. _But he wanted this… wanted this to be over. Press on regardless and just do as John says… he needed to get this over with!_

“That’s it, good. Go with it.” John encouraged him and continued the stroking.

It took some minutes but then Sherlock felt how the feeling accumulated again, teasingly slow it pooled around him.

John’s fingers moved so delicately on his skin _. It was good like that…_ the sensation was suddenly not longer difficult, it felt normal.

“Breathe deeper and into your abdomen.” John suggested.

He tried and found this breath was stuttering. When John’s fingers continued to massage his perineum he felt the stuttering started to expand through his whole body. It was an unsettling feeling.

“Go with it, fall into it.”

 _How was he supposed to do that? Right, this was arousal and it was were they wanted to go._ He tried to welcome it… and it was a bit like the rush of nicotine in his blood, but much more intense and… _Oh!_ John’s slick finger stroked over his rear opening and his body shivered intensely. _That_ feeling… he had already forgotten that sensation.

He heard John chuckle, obviously with delight about the fact that something was going as expected. ”Here we go, just enjoy the feeling.” The tone of John’s voice had made him forget how odd it felt, the tone said it was okay and nothing to be worried about.

He felt his body shiver in excitement and the feeling made him gasp softly with surprise, and in some kind of suspicion he recoiled from it.

“Shh, it’s OK, Sherlock… go with it. Relax, make your body go limp and heavy.”

It was running through his veins, intensifying every sensation of air movement on his skin, hot and fast rushing all around him. It started to even enter his mind, that tingling.

 _Was this how John felt when he was in bed with a woman? How everyone else felt who had sex?_ He hadn’t expected it’d feel like this!

It took some huge effort, but he finally managed to relax into the mattress. The rest of all physical tension slowly flew out of his body.

The only tension that was still there was the tingling, it seemed to built up constantly, with every stroke John did, his hands were everywhere, wandering up and down the groin cleft, over his lower abdomen, his balls and down over his anus.

Sometimes he felt John use his fingernails when he went down his groins, though John kept them short he seemed to use them deliberately now and then to make more tickling strokes. The sensations were so intense and confusing Sherlock wondered if John really had only two hands, there must be more.

The doctor instructed him to open his legs a bit wider, and he let his knees sink outwards, so that his legs came to rest in a position like in the middle of a breast-stroke while swimming. John rearranged the blanket so that his legs stayed covered, which were now spread wider than before. This had brought him out of his concentration somehow and John seemed to have noticed, he changed the rhythm of his movements, intensified the pressure at some spots.

Then one of the fingers briefly massaged his rear entrance and then, without any warning slowly pressed deeper into his back passage and Sherlock sucked in air in surprise.

The arousal rose to a mind-blowing sensation when the finger passed the first sphincter. His whole body hummed with the odd feeling, it felt strangely welcome and made him tremble with excitement.

The finger massaged the muscle carefully and he breathed out slowly with a low noise, not realizing it was him. He barely noticed how his whole body twitched with the intensity of the sensation…

Until suddenly another feeling added and _that_ one wiped his mind clear immediately.

Like a small eruption it blow away thoughts and distress.

He was not able to sense anything else for a moment, or make sense of anything.

It took several seconds, and what made him think a bit clearer again was a low moan he heard and realized _he_ was making the noise.

He didn’t dare to open his eyes but felt the intense sensation was a touch at the very tip of his prick, a pressure over the opening, and only there, it was massaging in circular movements with distinctive pressure. _Maybe the tip of John’s finger?_

He didn’t care, it felt so intense and so overwhelming he kind of lost the fact where he was and what was happening and why and everything… it just slipped away.

 _This was a bit like a drug_ , something in the back of his mind warned, but he shoved it away immediately.

The world and reality had faded away and the only thing remaining were the sensations, the emptiness in his mind was a pleasure, and the humming now filled him with something new and welcome and ….

…something changed again and he heard himself moan clearly this time. He felt John push inside him, past the second sphincter and it wasn’t really a comfortable thing, but the arousal made it exquisite… air rushed in and out of his lungs as if it was pressed in there and sucked out on itself. He found he wanted to breathe faster but it didn’t work.

The finger moved inside him, slowly back and forth and…. then the touch on top of his prick intensified and his glans was massaged.

This felt good… open… like his insides were bared and like he was invaded profoundly, though it was so minute and careful and caring.

His body was soft and just receiving and opened up. It felt strange but he was safe with John, a rush of gratitude for John’s patience washed through him and at first he feared it would lessen his experience but then in fact he felt that the caring aspect intensified it, this was John doing this, for him.

A low buzzing noise came from somewhere but he ignored it.

John’s finger moved gently back and forth inside him, sometimes went out all the way and then once more entered him slowly, feeling more slick than before.

It felt amazing every single time he was entered, again and again.

Sherlock knew his body was shaking with sensation and an unknown urge was building somewhere distant, but it was too diffuse to pay attention to it.

Then something exploded!

A sensation ripped through his groin, making him suck air in loudly in surprise. It was so intense Sherlock was not able to even locate it’s origin, the shock of it rushed through his body and mind simultaneously and it was so overwhelming it took away perception at all.

 

“Sherlock?” John’s voice. John’s hand at his forehead. “Talk to me, come on, open your eyes.”

He did and John was leaning over him, looking a bit worried.

“Hey? You’re OK?”

 _Of course he was, why shouldn’t he?_ Then he felt the haze in his mind and became aware of what they were doing, his body was trembling.

“I think you… it’s a bit… you kind of… overloaded, or something… maybe this was too intense. How do you feel?”

Sherlock tried to find out.

He felt good, shaky but good.

_Something was missing. The ghost of a sensation / touch was still present._

John’s touch. His fingers were gone, but the tension in his groin remained, he was still swimming in sensations, he missed John’s finger, it felt naked without them there, hollow.

“More….” He stammered, surprised about himself. _Was that his transport making decisions now?_ This was a bit scary, but he wanted it again nevertheless.

“I am not sure… I mean, you seemed to have passed out for a moment here….”

“No, didn’t. It’s fine, just too… so very intense… Please…” His voice was rough.

“I used that toy and pressed it’s tip at the tip of your glans, maybe it was a bad choice.”

“Wasn’t… it’s very stimulating… Just, intense… and unexpected… and not the best place to use it maybe, better… not there.”

“Oh….” John frowned. “You’re suggesting to use it somewhere else?”

Sherlock had indeed thought about it, but now that John made it more concrete he wondered if it was a good idea. He raised his brows in a question, not knowing what he wanted, what his body needed, he just knew he wanted that mind-blowing pleasure back.

“I don’t know.”

“Er, OK, I will try it _very_ carefully, but you need to tell me if it gets too intense… and if I think it’s too much I will stop, too.”

Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes, hoping he’d be able to return to the place where he had been before, where his mind was empty and filled with bliss or thrill or something. _The chemicals of his brain at work were amazing once more…. or where those the ones of his reproduction system?_

This felt totally different from the first time he had tried to wank months ago, when John had finally taken care of things. The arousal he had felt back then was not at all like this. He had probably been too much out of it so register anything back then. He needed to analyze that… later.

“Let me get some stuff.” John slipped out of the gloves and left them inside out on the floor. He stood up from the bed and Sherlock heard him switch on the CD player and start some music, classic. John didn’t like classic, so what was this about?

 


	7. Severe TLC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, here we are.

When John returned he had elastic plaster wrapped around his left hand’s index finger and some other stuff in his other hand Sherlock couldn’t see. The doctor sat down on the right side of the bed again and Sherlock saw the wire of the small vibrating unit dangle from the outside of his left hand.

Sherlock was still lying down, but now sat up to see what the doctor was doing in more detail.

“No. Lie back.” John instructed, turning away from him.

“What are you doing?” Sherlock realized his voice had a hint of fear in it.

“I taped that really small toy thing to my finger, so I can wear a glove over it.” John explained while switching the thing on for a moment. Sherlock didn’t see it, he had let himself fall back into the mattress.

“Lie on your front, that roll under your hip.” John signed towards the rolled duvet, then took another glove and slipped inside it with his left hand.

Sherlock turned around, shoving the pillows out of his way with his legs. He heard the tube of lube being opened and in the background the classic music changed to the second title, which was a lot faster than the first one.

Lying on that large roll of material was a bit uncomfortable at the beginning, but before Sherlock could complain John had covered his legs with another blanket and started massaging his back again, but not with the firm hands like before.

Sherlock struggled against the uncomfortable position, realizing it was not only uncomfortable but also kind of… exposed and on show, since he could not see what John was doing it also made him a bit uneasy, defenseless or even bleak maybe. John’s hand stilled his movements, he just rested it on his back.

“Give it a moment, I know this feels vulnerable, but just wait a bit more… relax…” John dragged the blanket higher so it covered his bottom, too. That felt a lot better.

Sherlock huffed in discomfort, John made sure his neck was not bent back in an awkward angle and it indeed started to feel less uncomfortable after a minute. He breathed through his mouth and tried to relax into the pillows.

 

John took his time to massage his way down his spine again. The blanket seemed to follow his hands down and Sherlock realized he had tensed up again when his body started to relax once more on it’s own.

“Good.” John cooed.

Sherlock was wondering where that toy was since he couldn’t feel it.

“Sherlock, stop thinking.”

“Can’t”.

“Alright, the thing is taped to the back of my left index finger, you can’t feel it when I touch you like this. You want me switch the thing on for a moment to know what it feels like?”

Sherlock nodded and John’s right hand left his shoulder blades, then Sherlock felt John’s left hand start to slowly oscillate. John’s hand moved up to his neck and massaged the muscles there that had been so tense two days ago. The touch once more caused horripilation of his skin, the vibrating intensified the touch but it was so gentle it felt good, a low humming that was rippling through his whole body.

But John switched it off again and he immediately missed it.

“I’ll turn it on again later, but now you need to concentrate on relaxing.” John seemed to read his thoughts. John’s hands had now moved down his spine and were kneading his lumbar region.

Some time later he was still trying to figure out how John kept the toy and it’s cord out of the way when John’s fingers for the first time moved over the highest part of his coccyx, following the bone down a bit to his gluteal cleft, they did not stay, went on over his upper buttocks once more and kneaded the muscles there. The touch left him kind of sizzling, it had made him nervous, not in a bad way, in a mixture of excitement and being agitated. Now, where was that coming from? This was new, it added to the mental tingling that was also returning, he tried to relax once more. _This was not easy._

“Easy, Sherlock, relax, just relax as good as you can. I’ll tell you before I move on.”

_Move on?… Right. John was heading to ease his tension. Was he ready for this?_

_It was a bit ridiculous, they had done this before, why was this so difficult?_

_Why didn’t John just go ahead and get rid of the problem?_ He wanted to be over with it.

Something switched in his mind and now the prolonging of the situation made him uneasy and the last thing he wanted was to listen to his body.

“Stop worrying, stop thinking.” John mumbled next to him. The doctor should know by now he wasn’t able to do this. He wanted to get past this issue and not feel any more than necessary, it was inconvenient enough already.

Then John’s finger very slowly went down the cleft until almost going over his opening and it made him tense up all the way.

“Come on, spread your legs a bit…” John encouraged as if this was the most normal thing in the world, probably… or maybe it was, but it felt so foreign again. Sherlock was not sure he was able to follow the request, the ebbing of the arousal had obviously brought his mind to another set of thinking mode again, interesting… and quite unnerving.

John helped and gently pried his knees apart a bit and made sure Sherlock was still covered by the blanket as much as possible.

This was when Sherlock made the decision once more to get rid of his hesitance and just observe those new sensations, and to trust John, who was taking care so kindly. He needed to, he had to, he wanted it over and going with it was the fastest way. He opened his legs a bit wider. Which intensified the feeling of openness again, his bum lifted and accessible, he was glad for the blanket.

“Sherlock, don’t tense up again. Just go with it. Concentrate on my touch.”

A heavy hand came to rest on the back of his head, it just rested there for a moment, as if waiting for something. An astounding feeling, the presence of that hand seemed to make his muscles melt into the pillows, the effect was quite intense.

He sucked in air in surprise when he realized his body seemed to really like that hand there. _Not in an arousing way, but in another one, more profound, was it trust?_

He felt his body expelling the new built up tension with every breath he exhaled.

“Good, go on, breathe deeply.”

John’s hand moved down his crack slowly, the nearer the finger came to his hole the more he could feel the tingling built up again. John’s fingers went lower with every stroke and Sherlock was cursing silently about the fact that John didn’t get down there at once, making him wait for the sensation again. But then he felt that the arousal intensified with every time John went back and forth. Was the teasing a method to accumulate arousal faster? Was that why he never had succeeded in masturbating? Because he had went for fast rubbing his prick immediately, never took his time to built up?

“Sherlock, stop thinking!” John said, now in a slight sing-sang scolding tone, and then… he stroked over his back entrance for the first time in what seemed to have been a very long time.

Sherlock’s body started to shiver once more and the arousal cleared the forefront of his mind gently from all busy thoughts.

A few strokes later John’s fingers reached the perineum and his balls once more and Sherlock heard himself exhale with a very soft moan. His body was taking over and he’d let it, just lean back and relish the feeling.

Arousal was building up and he felt his penis fill with blood again, pressure building up in his groin. He wiggled on the bed to get it in a more comfortable position, allowing his prick to direct another way than before.

John briefly stopped his movements and removed his hands to allow the movement, and when his touch came back Sherlock felt John part his buttocks with one hand and then slick cold fingers returned… and went straight for his opening.

John’s touch concentrated on the anus now, massaging it in small slow circles.

The consulting detective felt the excitation raise and it infect his whole being once more, instinctively he catalogued the levels of the sensation and the triggers that changed perception. The feeling of being drugged and endorphins rushing through his system intensified the more John worked there.

“Breathe deeper.” The doctor rested his right hand against his lower lumbar region.

Sherlock tried and the pressure continued to built up.

John tried to coax him into relaxing while he gently massaged the sphincter muscle with his slick finger, but Sherlock clenched up even more. It just happened, he didn’t want it but his opening seemed to have reflexes of it’s own.

The pressure intensified.

“Sherlock, deep breath.”

He did and when he exhaled the pressure rose suddenly, then the intrusion made him pant, but it was with an unknown need and arousal now. It felt all tight and odd, the tiny finger seemed to be a lot bigger than it actually was.

The digits went in slowly, deeper and deeper, only millimeters at a time, took their time to stop for some moments and carefully massaged the muscle, and more fingers massaged the opening on the outside simultaneously.

When the finger moved past the second sphincter it felt even more intense, after a short moment of uneasiness it started to feel… good.

John’s fingers seemed to be everywhere… inside him… on the outside, too. He seemed to have a lot more fingers and hands than he used to have.

Sherlock felt he started to swim in the sensation.

The touch concentrated on and around the closing muscles for quite some time, loosened them up.

It was all so slick and gliding around in circles and left and right and smooth and gentle and slow and from the inside and the outside and constant and…

It went on and on and on.

After what must have been a long time, he registered he had lost all sense of time and space and other parts of his body…

…And then the fingers retreated and came back more wet and cold again, and during that few moments he felt John’s other hand massaged his lumbar region.

The finger slowly sank in deeper and slowly moved around, touched his insides, stroked and caressed him, went minutely back and forth. Slowly and maddening.

He registered he had started to tremble again, had been for quite some time, but it was not important.

This made him feel opened up even more than before, mind and body, the intrusion was delicate and enjoyable. _But also inside out and raw._

All odd feelings had vanished, it felt just as if he didn’t want this to end on one hand and he needed this to get far more intense soon, on the other hand something was building, the want for more.

Sherlock realized he felt utterly cared for, that was not a sensation of his body but of his mind.

What John was doing now was not the touch of a doctor, there was an underlying sensation, trust and care and a feeling hummed in his chest and mind that felt heavy and intense, it momentarily dragged his attention away from the arousal but before he could explore it further he felt his breath come in stuttering intervals.

John’s movements sped up and started a slow pumping movement.

Then something changed and the penetrating finger felt suddenly bigger, but it was good, the thicker digit caused more friction.

It felt like need was building up and he groaned without wanting it. He was still kind of ashamed of the sounds his body seemed to produce on it’s own, but right now he just didn’t care. _Wasn’t important_. His body was surrendering to John and he was surrendering to his body.

The intrusion went on, further in, and the sensible skin of the anus registered every knuckle as it passed, the slow invasion made the finger feel much longer as it used to be.

Suddenly the thicker digit moved to a spot that made him gasp, the feeling was as if someone had turned up the arousal slide control merciless up to the top.

He then forgot how to breathe because the exquisite sensation was complex and mind-blowing.

 

He didn’t hear the sobbing sound that left his mouth when John carefully started to massage his prostate with his index finger that was thicker because of the toy that was taped to it’s back between the knuckles.

He also didn’t realize he was slightly thrashing around and twitching, and the intense pleasure visible on the outside made John smile.

But John also wondered what he could do about it, the thrashing worried him a bit, it seemed kind of lost or seeking… or falling apart.

Currently his right hand was carefully massaging Sherlock’s spine up and down to distract him and increase the sensory input. John planned to get at least one more finger into him and then switch on the toy. Would Sherlock persevere that long?

John remembered the other touch that had made Sherlock feel save to finally let go the last time. _But did he really want to end this already? No. He’d wait a bit for that, no reason to hurry._

 

Sherlock felt an urge climb higher and higher and even when he thought it couldn’t be possible to rise any more it still did.. and did.

He was distantly aware his was trembling intensely.

When John stroked over his prostate for the first time he had barely time to wonder what was happening when his transport decided to release delirious joy, it kind of flooded him, it was no longer only a sensation of his body, it was one that invaded his mind, too.

John hit the sweet spot only now and then, concentrated more on slowly entering him deeper, now.

Sherlock was breathing through his mouth, fast, and was just enjoying the delight the touch inside him caused.

He barely had another choice, this was overwhelming and paralyzing.

He realized he was quivering with the mental and physical hunger that intensified drastically with this hilarious kind of touch. Was this what a frenzy was?

He felt he started to loose contact to the physical world but he didn’t care. _This must be what the word ecstatic described… The pleasure intensified when John once more stimulated that special feel-good-spot._

And then it climbed to a level where suddenly his body was gone and only his delirious mind was left, vibrating with ecstasy. It felt like he was lost in the vast and empty universe of sensation, not sure how to find back, he felt panic built up.

“Sherlock?” John’s voice reached him from far away, and there it was, an anchor to reality.

_John!_

The doctor had caught his right wrist and pressed it into the bed beside his right shoulder.

“Stop moving around.” John whispered gently but his grip was firm.

Being partially held tight felt good, Sherlock realized, it might even prevented feeling lost, it was grounding.

When he concentrated on not moving he was reminded that his body was still trembling, _…And John’s finger inside were totally still, or no longer there? It indeed felt kind of abandoned there._ Which made him desperately want to move to get the stimuli back, but he kept still. _Had his transport thrashed around?_

Then John removed his hand from his wrist, not good.

“Nnno.” He managed.

“You want me to keep you from moving?” John sounded confused.

“Hold….”

“What?… Why?”

“Keep grounded… ’nd …”

“OK, got it.” John’s hand returned to press down on his wrist again, firm and steady. ”Put your left under your belly if you can.” John suggested and Sherlock did manage to get it under the duvet into a position that felt tight but didn’t hurt.

He had barely decided this was much better when John’s finger pressed into him again, it felt suddenly a lot thicker and slicker than before. _Was that why John kept pulling them out? To heighten the input when entering once more? Must be, he had done that quite frequently._ _The intruding movement was indeed the most delicate and good._

He was thoroughly relaxed now, John trapping his hand on the bed was really relaxing and reassuring.

Another moaning exhalation escaped him when he was penetrated deeper, opened wider, slowly and tenderly.

The stimulation once more sped up and pleasure washed through his mind when the touch once more reached that special spot.

Then he became aware there must be more than one finger inside him because the movements changed dynamics and became more intensive when two fingers started to

massage his insides and the prostate, stimuli alternating and coming from two directions.

The intensity of John’s touch was building up. His strokes became slowly faster and went in deeper carefully.

_Was there no end to how pleasurable those touches could get?_

He was barely used to how good one move felt when John did another and it felt even more intense and then the next even more good. He’d surely go mad if this went on for hours.

John started kneading his perineum. _The blunt pressure was one more enjoyable sensation, maybe it was his thumb? Didn’t matter. How could simple normal fingers cause so much …_ he had no word for this. _It was just indescribably how this felt._

John pressed his wrist down harder for a moment and he felt how his body was heaving with his breathing so fast it could be described as hyperventilating.

He was trembling almost violently.

He needed more… faster…. Though he was not sure how his body would take this. His heart was already beating much to fast and hard, it felt intense. He decided to ignore it.

“Slow down a bit, Sherlock.”

 _How was he supposed to do that?_ He was doing nothing. John was doing all the action, causing all the pleasure and drugging him with the most amazing sensations he had ever met.

He felt how his wrist was lifted and moved, so his arm was a bit more outstretched. John shifted a bit, he had been sitting next to Sherlock all the time but now he moved lower, Sherlock also ignored that, trying to slow down his breathing again. The interruptions were kind of unnerving on one hand, but on the other kept him grounded. _Was John doing them on purpose for that reason?_ He did not really like them. But John was continuing to slowly pushing into him and retreating now.

The doctor’s touch at his forearm vanished for a moment while he fumbled with something, but returned after a moment and stretched out his arm a bit. He realized being passive and being moved by John felt….? _Safe, good, cared for…? It was difficult to describe that, it was a positive feeling, no question, but it was so profound …._ he did not know what it was, just that it was a sensation of his mind, not his body. It was huge.

“G’nnng.”

John was back to stroking his prostate. Once more the tingling washed through his body, the need followed immediately.

This was so different from what he had thought sex would feel like. _It looked so very different from the outside._

John sped up his movements, building up more pressure and twisted his fingers occasionally while moving.

He was not only trembling hard now, he felt shaky. _Weak, even more open and filled than before. It felt good._

_John was inside him!_

Entering him with the most skilled hands he had ever seen. The thought was pushing up the arousal even higher. Having something living moving inside him was exquisite, his passiveness and the gift oft being handled and treated in this way was more than he had ever expected to be given. The feeling was so good it made him feel slightly nauseated.

He felt his body start a rhythm somewhere… or the need for a rhythm, he wasn’t sure… it was more like an urge. The need erupted in his consciousness.

John reacted and pumped faster and stroked his insides more intensely.

“Here we go.”

He heard John whisper and then something happened!

The feeling of being filled intensified and his whole being was forcefully dragged into an ecstatic oscillating humming.

The terrific sensation of John’s fingers massaging his prostate intensified…

_Tenfolded…_

Penetrated him deeper.

It was such an overwhelming experience he feared it would bruise his mind.

“Ghhhhh.” He exhaled in surprise.

Pleasure and desire flooding him.

Drowning out thoughts and…

_…Felt good, just so good…._

_…and intense…_

_…and intimate…_

_…horribly enjoying… so very good._

Humming, vibrating… consuming him, taking the world away.

Then something rose so fast and so slow it…

…he felt his body seizing… taking over control.

It was like fireworks starting to rise high in slow motion.

_What did just happen?_

Then suddenly the slow motion fireworks started to lit up his mind and everything around and inside him exploded.

His body carried out the most delightful process on it’s own and he was just the one having the bliss to enjoy it.

His insides copied the rhythm and moved with it.

He felt his rear opening clench around John’s fingers, the tightening intensified the feeling of the penetration.

He sucked in air heavily, partially in surprise and partially in satisfaction.

The orgasm washed through his whole being in intense slow waves, again and again.

It went on for what might have been ages, Sherlock didn’t know, it didn’t matter, it was just there and good and still there.

Quite some time later he felt it ebb down and it left his mind wiped blank, the intense sensations had floored any thinking at all.

He just breathed.

Again…

….and again.

_Just breathing…_

The aftermath was pure bliss, too. He felt so warm and tired and safe.

John’s hand was on his head and his thumb stroked the back of his head.

Time seemed to stand still.

It was just satisfied sweet emptiness.

At some point John finally moved besides him, it brought him a bit out of his stupor, but he tried to ignore it, he wanted to stay in this state a bit longer.

He was dimly aware that John gently rolled him down from the bundled up duvet and onto his side, rearranged his limbs with the uttermost care and tucked the blanket around him tightly.

The last thing he sensed before his consciousness sank into sleep was John’s calming and steady hand on his head.


	8. Request

John was once more fascinated from Sherlock’s intense responses and wished he could experience the first encounters with sex and orgasms again as intense as Sherlock was doing it now. Not that he was jealous, having Sherlock’s intense senses must be a curse more than a blessing, but it was amazing to see him react and sense and be overwhelmed with the new sensations.

John just sat next to Sherlock who was still busy going through the after-effects of one of his first orgasms, he seemed kind of out of it, or just totally busy with experiencing it. He was breathing fast and his body shuddered now and then.

John waited, just waited.

He assumed Sherlock had ejaculated, he had felt the movements on the inside at least. This was also kind of new to him. Yes, they had done this once before already, but John had been in a lot of worry back then, this time he had watched and paid attention to the thing itself and to Sherlock’s reactions.

Also, _this_ time Sherlock was not out in subspace somewhere but fully conscious.

The experience was intense for John, too, a bit awkward, yes, because he felt like a mixture of doctor, teacher and … best friend.

Sherlock’s breathing slowed down very slowly.

This was not really sex, at least not in John’s understanding of the word, but it was a kind of enjoying to cause another person that was dear this kind of pleasure, give him the pleasure of experience it like this, not like horny teenagers, not knowing what they are doing, and doing it all wrong.

This was special. And he was the one who had taken Sherlock’s virginity, kind of… when one interpreted the phrase in the sense of caused an orgasm.

He had been the first person doing this to Sherlock.

How will this go on? John was not sure he was ready to go any further than teaching Sherlock. He was definite not ready to be intimate with him in the sense of them both naked. But this, this was interesting and he’d like the idea to continue it like this. Sherlock’s responses were so unique and he obviously trusted him a great deal.

When John had started to make him lie on his stomach John wasn’t sure the suggestion was a good idea, the position was kind of vulnerable because Sherlock could not see what John was doing, but Sherlock had adapted fast.

Sherlock was now breathing deep and relaxed, not sleeping, though. John decided this was the moment to get him into a relaxing position and clean him up a bit.

Sherlock blinked and reacted slowly, if at all. John very gently manhandled him off the duvet and onto his back. Sherlock frowned, probably he was not delighted about the interruption, but John was sure he’d dislike dried semen more than it.

He brought a warm washcloth and cleaned Sherlock’s up. The fact that Sherlock didn’t react made him frown. Was he already fast asleep?

John finished and then rolled Sherlock onto his side. To this Sherlock reacted, he opened dazed eyes that kind of stared into the distance.

“Are you OK?” John asked softly.

Sherlock just stared ahead and John tucked him in tightly, as he had done the last time.

When John once more placed a heavy hand on Sherlock’s head he felt how the other man relaxed under his touch. The genius brain had shut down and John felt him slip into sleep.

It was oddly satisfying seeing Sherlock this relaxed and trusting. It made John feel special, he had given several women a great amount of pleasure during his life, but this was different. He realized he had started really enjoying this today.

He picked up all the equipment and took it to the bathroom, then putting the kettle on.

Sherlock seemed to be sleeping soundly and John needed some time to cope…. He maybe even needed some release himself later. The sexual tension in the air had not passed his own needs unnoticed. He was tired, but he needed some time to come back down from this, tea and TV he decided.

Two hours later he found himself in front of the television with the BDSM book, he just skimmed through it, reading a page here and some explanations there. It really was kind of interesting, many elements were nice, though he doubted he’d ever been eager to try the whole thing about dominant and submissive. Then he remembered Sherlock asking him to press down on him.

 _Had it been the need to been hold?_ Which he’d see as a psychological need, or had it been the need to be not able to move or to be restrained? John intentionally looked for chapters and passages in the book about that. It was quite interesting what he learned, though for Sherlock this would probably be the same thing but look totally different on the outside, as usual. Maybe that was why the ideas seemed interesting to him too, but not the physical appearance off things?

_Was that the same or the difference?_

He decided to read to book with more attention later.

But right now he needed to wank and then sleep.

He checked on Sherlock once more before he went to bed.

 

The next morning John found Sherlock showered shaved and in a relaxed mood.

He had started playing the violin three minutes after John’s alarm had went off and when John came down Sherlock was by turns sipping from his teacup and moving the bow over the strings.

John found a whole pot of tea on the table and a mug.

“How are you doing?”

“Good.”

Sherlock seemed not eager to talk but John needed some feedback.

“You were OK with what we did last night?”

“Yes.”

“Could you be a bit more specific?”

“Astounding.”

“Was there anything you’d like to have been different?” John winced inwardly about the need to discuss it this direct, but Sherlock had spoken about the whole thing kind of academically before, so…

“An amazing experience.” Sherlock explained further.

“So it would be OK with you if we repeat it if need arises?”

“Yes. It was an quite delightful.”

John grinned, not the words he’d have chosen.

“So, next time you need some relief, please don’t wait to tell me until it starts to hurt or you feel bad with it. Tell me when need arises.”

“I….”

“Yes?”

“I am not sure I can manage that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know… I kind of only realize it when it’s too late.”

“Alright. We’ll figure it out, then… You might even think about things you may want to try… Within the limits of what I told you earlier.”

“Could you rephrase that, I am not sure I understood.”

“We can try all things that do not include me kissing or shagging you.” John felt his face reddening.

“What about you undressing?”

“Er…” That was a bit more concrete than John wanted it to be. ”Er… no…”

“Why not?”

“I… Just: no.”

“I want you to sound me.”

“What?” John almost dropped the cup, but managed to grip it harder in the last moment, he spilled a bit of the liquid though. He was so speechless he didn’t actually know what to say to this.

“It means the process of…”

“I know what it bloody means, Sherlock!”

“And it fits the needs of you not being bodily involved or taking part intimately. It also is kind of a slow activity, which is what I’d prefer and….”

John blew out air in hesitation.

“Sherlock, last night… you where kind of … overwhelmed with the sensory input of the interaction… am I right?”

“It was quite intense, isn’t it supposed to be?”

“Yes, it is…. But to be honest I’ve never seen somebody this responsive, it was kind of amazing…. Above average, I mean… and the things we did were …. kind of _normal_ when it comes to sex… so….” John stammered, trying to explain.

“You are saying I am highly sensitive?”

“Ehm, yes.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Well, in general it’s quite good when it comes to sex, but it also means we shouldn’t try things that are described as really intense by _normal_ people, at least not right away… maybe do the whole trying sex thing carefully and test the waters a bit more before doing the… exotic stuff.”

“What waters?”

“It’s a phrase, it means do it careful. Besides, I’ve never done this and I’d need to study the thing first. All I know is that it’s really intense and that you need to do it right, like in medically right and sterile.”

“Good thing you happen to be a doctor, then.”

John rolled his eyes.

“Can you think of something a bit more… no, just think about it…. Maybe I should try to help you learn how to wank for starters.”

“No!” Sherlock’s aversion was bordering clinical John joked inwardly. After what they had done where was the fucking problem with that?

“How about you wank an let me observe?”

John’s jaw dropped. _He should have seen that coming, he really should_. ”Er….”

“John, are you uptight with this?”

John knew it was stupid, after what they had done and how Sherlock had trusted him he should trust Sherlock enough…. _No, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust him, it was more that it would be his sexuality inspected…. Sherlock would probably discuss everything he’d do constantly through the whole process and he’d feel like an experiment… but maybe that was good, nothing else involved than experimenting, no tail attached. What was he afraid of?_

_Sentiment… His own? Surely not Sherlock’s. That must be it._

“As an experiment?… Maybe. But if it comes to that, you need to let _me_ pick the moment.

”OK. Lestrade texted….” Sherlock changed topics suddenly and for the next three weeks not even a hint of sexuality or anything related was mentioned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part of the series.  
> I am sorry this took ages to finish. I hurt my back and sitting hunched over a keyboard turned out to be quite aweful, so I abandoned writing for the past weeks. Sorry :(  
> But now I finally started with the next part of this series. I already have a pretty clear idea of how and where it's heading.  
> Let's say it this way. Sherlock gets a bit more active with things and curiosity.  
> I will post a note in here when I published the first chapter.  
> Hope you enjoyed.


	9. Information about a sequel

The first chapters of 'Indirect Stimuli' are now online, which is the new story in the series.

Sherlock actively tries to gather knowledge about masturbation, but John is having issues with the idea.

Thank you to all who commented, left kudos or read.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the mistakes, english is not my first language.


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